


wander closer

by shxme



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Dragon Hanzo, Dragony bits, Indiana Jones AU btw, M/M, One Shot, Treasure Hunter McCree, Young Hanzo, Young McCree, dragony anatomy?, part of an au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-07-14 07:24:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16035734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shxme/pseuds/shxme
Summary: Jesse's been sent to investigate some ruins in the Japanese Alps. He meets a dragon that draws him in like a cyclone with a wicked smile.





	wander closer

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr is @shameforxx go find me on there. this is a one shot from a longer bit that I may or may not write. idk depends on how much y'all like dragon sex I guess.

He’s lucky to have gotten this close, McCree knows. He can’t help but think that it’s because Hanzo likes him, or at least tolerates him enough to allow him near. Even now the dragon-man glances back to make sure he’s following. He catches his gaze for just a moment before he slips back into the darkness ahead, silent as dust save for the click of his claws against stone.

He could easily be going to his death. Maybe Hanzo is luring him to a trap, deep within his lair. McCree isn’t one to take death lying down but the dragon he’s following is what keeps him moving forward, going deeper into the mountain ruins he’d set out to explore.

 

“Where’ya leadin’ me?” He asks after the silence has become too stifling. It’s unsettling him, making him wonder if he  _ is  _ wandering towards his death.

The dragon stops moving, he can tell because the clicking quits as well. A moment later he’s there, in front of him so suddenly that McCree’s breath hitches. In the lantern light, his beauty is even more apparent. A strong jaw, long mottled blue ears, the curve of long ivory horns that jut out above his hair, McCree could probably stare for hours, just drink it all in. He barely looks a day over twenty-five but Jesse wonders how old he  _ really  _ is. Wonders about this situation entirely.

 

As it is, Hanzo lays a careful hand flat against his chest and McCree stops breathing altogether. The dragon’s fingernails are sharp—but not as sharp as he would have guessed—as they trace the seam of McCree’s button up. Hanzo’s looking up at McCree almost like he’s waiting for something, anything. The faintest trace of a sly smile creeps across his face, a hint of fangs.

“Goddamn,” he croaks, finally finding his voice. His free hand, not holding the lantern, is hovering at Hanzo’s side, almost conflicted, aching to touch. “You’re gorgeous, know that?”

Hanzo small smile widens into something more approving. He pulls away from McCree, snatching the cowboy hat off his head with a quick movement.

“My hat—” Jesse’s voice dies out as he watches the dragon slot the Stetson over his horns. He glances back at McCree, arching one perfect brow and tweaking the angle of the hat on his head. He tucks his hands into the sleeves of his robe and disappears back into the darkness ahead.

It takes his feet a few seconds to catch up to his brain before McCree stumbles after Hanzo. He can’t hear him anymore and for a minute he’s wandering through the dim hallway on his own. The hallway’s cold drafts tickle his ears and the tip of his nose but he keeps walking, a bit faster now, boots loud against the cracked stone.

“Where’d you run off to?” His words come out hushed, the silence smothering his usual loudness. The foreboding feeling is returning, settling in his bones like the chill.

There’s a doorway to his right, covered by a hanging layer of thin fabric. McCree brushes it out of the way and steps inside, raising his lantern higher.

“Oh.”

It’s a bedroom, old and drafty but a bedroom nonetheless. Half melted unlit candles dot the walls, surrounding the futon in the middle. It’s low to the ground and lined with dark pillows, stark against the paleness of the mattress. Clearly, the area had been refurbished. It’s a bit messy, mismatched sheer fabric and blankets draped every which way, colorful pebbles piled on the floor, and cups of wildflowers positioned at random, but—it’s enchanting. 

A strange word, but fitting, considering the dragon on the bed. Jesse’s arm sags and the light dims as the lantern swings. Hanzo’s in the center of the room, among the pillows and old decor. Sat down on the bed away from him, pulling the golden ribbon loose from his long hair. It sways as he relaxes his shoulders, probably as soft as it looks.

Jesse swallows. “Goddamn.” 

Hanzo looks at him over his shoulder and his eyes are sly but his grin is almost wicked.

 

He quickly lights a few of the candles, just enough to help the lantern. His hands are shaking but he doesn’t think about it. Instead, he sheds his bag and kicks his boots into the corner. This might be a big mistake. He doesn’t know anything about dragons, maybe this is how they eat people, lure them in so they can’t escape.

But then he looks up at the creature, sees his strangely appraising glance, and all rational thoughts fall by the wayside.

“Can I?” He asks, hushed, hopeful as he crouches at the edge of the futon, sturdy boots crunching on the stone floor. He can’t be reading this wrong, can he? He was literally led to Hanzo’s bedroom. 

Hanzo seems to consider his words. Jesse wonders how he sounds. Maybe deep, maybe light and airy. Perhaps he can’t speak at all.

McCree watches the stranger’s head jerk down in a nod, eyelids fluttering shut for a moment. That’s all the answer he needs, surging forward, hands sliding up Hanzo’s waist. 

“Gorgeous.” He presses his nose against Hanzo’s hair, lips against his temple. “God— _ damn,  _ you’re so gorgeous.” He pulls away so he can see his face. “I could look at ya’ for hours.”

The dragon under him seems to preen, a faint hum filling the air. It sends a chill down Jesse’s spine. 

“You’re Hanzo, right?” McCree asks as he takes off his jacket. “I didn’t just misinterpret wrong? My Japanese ain’t that great.”

Hanzo nods and pulls off his hat, tossing it across the floor. It’s the first definite sign that he understands him. McCree runs a few fingers through his hair and finds it just as silky as he’s imagined.

“I’m Jesse,” he says, and watches as Hanzo’s mouth silently forms the name. His eyes are burning, alive with heat.

Deft hands make quick work of the buttons on McCree’s shirt and a moment later it hangs open. He smooths his thumb over an ivory horn as Hanzo’s palms map the expanse of his scruffy chest. Jesse knows he’s a looker, known ever since he was young. He chuckles at the dragon’s approving expression.

“Like what’cha see?” His attention turns to Hanzo’s own clothing, still very much on. “C’mon I wanna see ya’ too.” He tugs at the sash around Hanzo’s waist and it loosens, slipping off and pooling on the futon. Sharp fingers latch onto McCree’s bandana, tugging him forward into a biting kiss. Hanzo’s lips are warm against his, and one of his fangs catches on McCree’s lower lip, drawing out a grunt of pain. Jesse pulls the dragon’s robe down, exposing more tempting skin. He leans back onto his knees and breaks away from the kiss, Hanzo’s mouth chasing his backwards.

 

He whistles, a short breathy thing, because Hanzo is just full of surprises. His skin is unblemished except for spots of scales on the shoulders, dark in color. And the  _ tattoo,  _ Jesse would love to examine it closer. A winding dragon wraps around Hanzo’s arm, vibrant and detailed. He follows it up to Hanzo’s chest, enthralled. Was he born with it? Did he get it done?

A warm hand palms his bulge and focuses his attention back on the task at hand. He dips his head down and latches onto a dark nipple. Hanzo whines and he relishes in the sound, wonders what other noises he can pull out of him.

 

“Spread your legs for me,” he murmurs, voice thick. “Lemme see what we’re dealing with.”

Hanzo’s legs part easily, robe opening even more. McCree slips the rest of it off, laying the dragon bare. He whistles again, taking in the toned body below him. Hanzo is lithe and muscular, and basically looks human but—

He’s not. The horns, the fangs, the scales, and now the pink slit between Hanzo’s legs. McCree hums to himself thoughtfully.

“You a lady?” Jesse asks, rubbing the inside of Hanzo’s thighs with his thumb. He doesn’t know dragon anatomy. Maybe this is what a girl looks like.

A sturdy knee collides none too gently with his chest. Hanzo’s scowling.

“Okay, not a lady,” McCree chuckles apologetically. He shifts himself backwards. “Scooch up? I’ll make you feel good.”

Hanzo shuffles backwards clumsily and McCree immediately ducks down to lick a long stripe up the dragon’s sex. He’s rewarded with a quiet gasp. Another sound to add to the collection. He dips his tongue even lower, exploring. Hanzo is already deliciously wet. It’s easy enough to slide two fingers in and feel how tight he is, throbbing around the intrusion. Jesse prods curiously at a nub at the very top of Hanzo’s entrance and he revels in the way the creature jolts. He prods it again and fingers find his hair and pull  _ hard.  _

“Alright  _ alright,”  _ he half hisses, going where his head is pulled. Sadly up and away from between Hanzo’s legs. “Would be helpful if you said somethin’.” 

Hanzo glares at him shrewdly. In one swift movement, he unbalances McCree with his knee and swings him under him. McCree’s head hits the stiff mattress none too gently. He blinks at the dragon now sitting on top of him. 

“Jesse.” Hanzo speaks like he’s testing the name out. His voice is deep. Deeper than Jesse would have assumed. Not bad though. Not bad at all.

“You’re—” he wants to say  _ gorgeous _ , but he’s already repeated himself too much so his words catch in his throat. Hanzo doesn’t wait for him to finish, grinding down on Jesse’s trapped cock.

He chokes. “Fuck, hang on sweetheart.” 

Hanzo gracefully lifts himself up to his knees to allow McCree to fumble with his belt. He manages to unbuckle it and forces his pants and underwear down in one rushed movement. The cold air hits his now bared cock and he winces. Hanzo looks at it carefully as he settles back down on McCree’s hips. 

“It’s big, for a human,” Jesse reassures, a bit embarrassed by the staring.

Hanzo raises an eyebrow. He reaches down and grips the base of Jesse’s cock, running his palm up the shaft. It’s almost like he’s weighing it in his hand. Jesse jolts as the dragon’s curious thumb dips against the end of his cock.

“Careful darlin’,” he croaks, voice shaking just a little.

Hanzo looks at him and his eyes are dark with lust. He tosses his head up haughtily as if being asked to be careful is a disrespectful challenge. 

The dragon raises his hips and lines up Jesse’s aching cock with his entrance. The scales dotting his body glimmer in the candlelight and his tattoo almost seems to glow. McCree can’t help but wonder—once again—if this is real. Maybe he’s hallucinating. Maybe he got lost in the mountain snow and this is his one respite before he dies. 

McCree doesn’t really care either way. It feels  _ real  _ as Hanzo sinks onto his cock. He watches as Hanzo slides down slowly, huffing and sighing as he takes inch after inch till he’s fully seated. It’s impossibly hot and tight and Jesse props himself up on one elbow to admire how Hanzo trembles. 

“That’s it,” he encourages breathily. “You’ve got it, you’re  _ perfect.” _

The dragon’s face is flushed but the extra compliment still shows as his expression breaks into a hazy smile. He begins to rock himself on McCree’s cock, starting at a tempo that has them both groaning. Jesse grips Hanzo’s thighs to steady him, brushing his fingers over the smooth skin. The room is still cold, candles offering little to no heat, but Hanzo is  _ so  _ warm around him. He clenches around his dick suddenly and stills, chest heaving, eyes fluttering shut. 

“Feel good?” McCree asks, in a voice like the rocky hills he’d climbed to get here. 

Hanzo looks at him through half-lidded eyes. He knows it does, but McCree isn’t quite done yet. He slaps Hanzo’s hip gently.

“Off for a sec.” He groans as Hanzo pulls off of him with a whine.

He eases Hanzo onto his back and spreads his legs wide, rubbing the head of his still hard cock against the dragon’s cunt.

“Jesse—” the blessed name leaves Hanzo’s lips as he claws at Jesse’s arms.

“Easy there darlin’,” Jesse grunts and pushes inside again, feeling the blissful heat once more.

McCree starts a pace then, a fast but gentle pace. He wants to take his time. He wants to savor this gorgeous dragon and let this last because he  _ knows  _ it won’t last. Leaning down, Jesse sucks a mark onto Hanzo’s neck. The creature underneath him keens, back arching high off the mattress. 

He continues, pressure building in his gut and Hanzo’s  _ loud.  _ He’s loud and so hot as he whines and groans. Eventually, it becomes too much and Jesse releases with a shout, voice echoing across the room. Maybe across the ruins entirely.

Hanzo’s chest heaves below him as he pulls out, breath heavy. McCree watches a bead of white bubble out of Hanzo’s rosy slit before he shuffles up next to him on the futon.

“Don’t talk much?” he asks brushing long hair from the dragon’s face. He grazes his fingertips over a horn again, admiring them.

Hanzo says something in Japanese, too fast and mumbled for Jesse to comprehend. He rolls fully onto his side and presses his face against McCree’s shoulder.

They tangle their legs together and Jesse buries his nose in Hanzo’s hair knowing it won’t last.

 

And it doesn’t. When morning comes and Jesse wakes alone in the ruins, he knows some things are too good to be true. He doesn’t dwell on it. Instead, he dresses and packs his things and if he picks a long golden ribbon off the floor and ties it onto his belt then it’s unimportant.

Because he’s still got an adventure to finish, and good things never stay.

 

**Author's Note:**

> @shameforxx


End file.
